


"whatever, f*ggot"

by 80slieberher



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, i Love fuckboy bill, i kno its short, im sorry, internalized homophobia warning !!, me chanting: fuckboy bill fuckboy bill fuckboy bi-, this was requested on tumblr uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80slieberher/pseuds/80slieberher
Summary: stan is tired of being held at arms length in public





	"whatever, f*ggot"

“Stan,  _Stanley!_ ” Stan’s best friend, Richie’s, voice pulled him out of his trance. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Richie’s hands were waving in front of his face.  
He shook his head.  
“What?” He mused, glancing back down to the notes he’d been writing. They were organized nicely, taken straight from the powerpoint he was looking at - well, not really. He had been looking at something else.  
“You’re staring,” Richie snickered, “Just didn’t want you to pop a boner in class.”  
Stan huffed in disgust, elbowing his friend.   
His phone buzzed in his pocket just then, and he looked up to where he’d been staring again - this time making eye contact with the boy he’d been so entranced with. He broke it to check the text.  
 _Bathroom?_  
It was a promising proposition.  
“I have to use the bathroom,” His chair scooter against the floor as he pushed it out, getting up - the red-brown haired boy across the room smirking at him now as he got up as well.  
“Suuuure you d-,” Richie started, but was cut off by Stan knocking him on the back of the head lightly and rolling his eyes.  
“I do,” He insisted, “You’re just gross.”  
“I’ll miss you, Stanny!” Richie blew a fake kiss to him as he walked to the door, and he chuckled once at his friend before exiting.   
He had barely opened the door when hands were grabbing at him, pulling him inside and locking the door behind them.   
“Eh-enjoy the view?” Bill chuckled, pulling Stan so close he could smell his cologne. Thankfully he never wore as much as his friends did - you couldn’t smell Axe on Bill from a mile away. Bill didn’t even wear Axe.   
“I didn’t mean to stare,” Stan defended, smiling a small smile and moving his hands around Bill’s neck, playing with the soft hair at the nape there. “I was lost in thought.”  
Bill hummed, followed by a teasing chuckle. Stan felt his hands move to his hips. “Thoughts about what?”   
Stan rolled his eyes before finally leaning up on his tip toes and closing the space between their mouthes, Bill’s lips soft on his.  
It escalated quickly, Bill beginning to walk so that Stan was pressed against the wall, Stan pulling his head down with hands hanging around his neck still.   
“‘Don’t have mm-much time,” Bill mumbled into Stan’s open mouth, “Before we’ll h-h-have to go back to class…” He broke their lips apart and instead started trailing kisses down Stan’s jawline, down his neck.   
“Mmf,” Stan groaned before taking Bill’s face in his hands. He pulled him off of him gently, and held his face just in front of his own, their breaths mixing in the space between them. “You’re so pretty, Bill.” Stan breathed, running his thumb over his cheekbone. He drank in every detail of the taller boy’s face - his lips red and wet from kissing, cheeks blushed from the compliment, eyes the color of diamonds framed by perfect lashes.   
“You’re buh-being cliche,” Bill laughed almost nervously, and Stan could tell he was flustered. He tried to duck back into Stan’s face, but Stan moved out of the way before he could - a teasing smile on his face. “Please, S-S-Stan, princess,” He begged, mouth falling into a frown along with eyebrows turning up in a pleading expression, “Wuh-w-we have to go back s-soon, and I-,”   
He cut himself off, grinding his hips against Stan’s - who felt his hard on prominently.   
Stan felt his elbows brush the fabric of Bill’s flannel as he moved his hand down to palm him, still stroking his face with his other hand. Bill leaned into both touches.  
“Tell me what you want me to do, baby,” Stan teased again, speaking lowly, and Bill licked his lips, humming.  
“Www-want you to ss-suck me off,” He rushed his words, his eyes fluttering closed. Stan relished in how desperate he looked. “Want- wanna see th-th-thoose pretty lips around me,” His cheek leaned further into Stan’s hand, “P-please.”  
Stan sighed, thoughts from earlier returning to him. He had stared at Bill because Bill never stared at him - Bill barely looked at him outside of situations like these. Stan’s eyes fluttered closed as Bill whined and ground his hips against Stan’s again, trying to push forward into Stan’s face again.   
“Why don’t we ever do anything outside of this?” Stan blurted before he could stop himself. He’d been thinking about it all morning.   
“W-what?” Bill laughed, nervously this time, obviously caught off guard.  
“Sorry, I- I ruined the moment, I just-,” Stan sighed again and retracted his hand, “I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately, and you- you never look at me outside of bathrooms or janitors closets or our rooms. You never like any of my pictures on Instagram. You don’t talk to me outside of… This.”   
Bill cocked his head. “Yes I duh-do. I t-t-text you all the time. I snapchat y-you,” Bill furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “Why is th-that important, anyway? We’re j-j-just hooking up, it’s nah-not like there’s anything betw-tween us.” Another nervous laugh.   
“I know,” Stan nodded, but there was a pang in his chest as he swallowed. He didn’t know. Well, he did, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Bill. “But I- I just don’t think it’d be a crime for you to acknowledge my existence, is all.”  
“I c-can’t seen with you, b-baby,” Bill sighed, looking anywhere but at Stan. He still hadn’t dropped his hands from his waist. “I’m n-not- I’m not a f-f-ff-,” He swallowed. “A  _fag_.”   
Stan frowned. “Then why am I  _huh-huh-_ here?” He questioned, suddenly cold. “Since that’s all you think of me? That I’m a faggot?”  
Bill looked alarmed and then confused again. “N-no! That’s n-n-not what I meant, I don’t th-think that- Wh-what do you mean? Y-you’re- You’re h-h-here because I l-like-,” Bill cough suddenly, preventing the finish of the sentence, “You’re huh-here because we like to h-hh-hook up. That’s why people d-do it.” He stated dumbly.   
“If you haven’t noticed, which I assume you have - since you’ve literally sucked my dick before - I’m a guy, Bill. You’re a guy. You can’t call yourself straight and then turn around and- and fucking use me like this.” Stan squinted, his anger building in his lungs, feeling like they were on fire. Like he would blow out smoke any second. “If I’m a fag, you’re a fag. I’m just not enough of a coward to hide it.” He pushed a wide-eyed Bill off of him swiftly.   
“S-Stan, I-,” He started, but Stan cut him off, unfinished his rant.  
“No,” He reached for the door, turning to Bill. He looked at him with a shocked expression, lips fallen open. Stan’s frown deepened, “If you’re not- if you don’t want to be honest with yourself, I’m not going to make you. Go be a fuckboy somewhere else to some other easy guy that’ll suck you off in a grimy school bathroom.” He exhaled a bitter laugh.  
“It d-doesn’t- You duh-d-don’t have to,” Bill fumbled, clearly trying to find the right words, “I wuh-want- I just-,” He made motions with his hands, and Stan turned away.  
“Whatever, faggot.” He huffed, pushing the door open and ignoring the calls of his name left behind him.


End file.
